


blood on their hands from shards of heartbreak

by dabblingDilettante



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Other, Spoilers, Toxic Gay-Lesbian Solidarity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 11:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20357905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabblingDilettante/pseuds/dabblingDilettante
Summary: What are a young man and a young lady meant to do in such an unjust world.





	blood on their hands from shards of heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Los Campesinos - Avocado, Baby
> 
> Alternate universe where Byleth does not return.

There is no mud underneath Dorothea's nails. She is meticulous with regards to that. Because she survived through singing, she had prized the power of words over swords. And because singing was survival, she spends her time on the battlefield watching the scorched earth from the fire that rains down with a flick of her wrist.

"You look tired, beautiful."

Sylvain is as unwelcome as ever.

"I'm sure," Dorothea says. In better times, she would get up from the ground and walk away. Instead, she remains, hands still submerged in chilly water. She had kept track of the months, at first. Just as she had used to keep track of the people whose lives she ended. The best understanding of time she has now is how many goosebumps rise on her skin and how much light she has to see them.

"No need to be so harsh," he says. He sits down at her side, like she had invited him, because that is what House Gautier does best. "Just thought I'd offer you a little company. You really took control of that last battle." Sylvain laughs. "When you do stuff like that, it almost makes me think you want this war to end."

Her gut churns in the same note as a quiver of her lips. Dorothea can't bite back her laugh - half bitter, half genuine. 

"I'm glad I could get something real out of you," he says, allowing her a moment to breathe.

"I do dislike that about you," she says. "I suppose I can't just ignore all the practice you have trying to get people to react. It's really quite impressive, even if it's not useful."

He gives her a grin in return. Dorothea rolls her eyes. They've known each other for too long.

"You can tell me why you chose to came to visit me," she says. "I would hope you'd have stopped tip-toeing around your problems when we were still in school."

She gauges his silence alongside the setting sun. She watches the shadows on his hands grow with the rising tension, sharp lines against his skin. This was how a noble and commoner could be friends. In acting. In sickly knives hiding under one's skin. In the grotesque realities they were forced to play part in.

He says, "I saw Felix."

"I see," she answers.

"He's still alive," comes from Sylvain in a murmur.

She thinks of Edelgard. "Yes."

Face half-hidden behind his hands, he asks, "Do you ever think much about loyalty? Or ... do you think much about nobles being loyal?"

"You know how I feel about nobles, Sylvain."

He says, "You might not know this, but ... I left my friends behind. Without a thought, almost, because our professor looked like a cute girl, barely older than me." 

Dorothea shakes her head. "No, I'm aware. Everyone knew." Not that she was much better, she knew. She had just couched her betrayals behind scholastic achievement.

"The worst thing is, I didn't even ..." He runs his fingers through his hair. "I don't even like..." 

"It was school, Sylvain." She interrupts him. For both their sakes. "I don't think any of us expected things to go this far. ...and I wouldn't gauge your loyalty based on classroom politics, either."

"Yeah," he says, finally. "I guess."

Sylvain leaves behind their cold silence first, and Dorothea lingers on the dull ache of her own nails against her palms.

\---

Five years pass, and their reunion doesn't go as planned.

Byleth is gone and as charismatic as Claude can be, everyone watching knows the war is getting worse. Dorothea doesn't mind moving to another country - even if nobles are as much of a problem as they ever were, she never had the option to honestly travel before. Bitterness tinges her mouth when she thinks back to Edelgard, fighting the church, fighting for something she knows has to have some good reason, deep down - but even one betrayal was too much. She could see how Edelgard longed for Byleth's attention. Everyone heard about how the former mercenary had quite literally jumped between her and a raving bandit.

And when Byleth had smiled at her - 

When this beautiful woman, barely older than her, had reached out, and asked her to join -

Dorothea didn't believe in any goddess. Or at least, if a goddess did exist, Dorothea knew she'd been long since rejected by her. But when Byleth looked at her, it made her feel like maybe she was chosen for something special. Something more than poverty and death.

As it turned out, there was something to that feeling. Just that Byleth was chosen by whatever terrible goddess could make Dorothea so miserable and so happy. Just that Byleth was special enough to come to the forefront of a terrible fight, and then just -

Disappear.

It was just like the goddess to take everything away from Dorothea.

Most of her young life. Byleth. Edelgard. Her job. Then her home.

"The Empire is going to launch an offensive against us," Claude tells them, one day. "If they lose, then our country will side with the Kingdom. That's great. We all go out for a drink and sleep in tomorrow." He pauses before he goes on - Hilda grimmer than normal behind him. "If they win, then our country will side with them, and our people will still survive." His eyes are like steel. "If that comes to pass, and they kill me. I don't intend for any more of you to die. Do what you need to do."

The class that was the Golden Deer is a strange mish-mash of people who came here to follow Claude or their country and those who came to follow Byleth. Perhaps it is that logic that makes Dorothea's eyes meet Sylvain's. No one questioned the way the two would meet and spend time together. It was easy to hide under the guise of a relationship neither wanted. No one could call Dorothea a traitor if she fraternized with someone who was meant to be an enemy.

"Excited to see who'll win tomorrow?" Sylvain says, once the officer's meeting has ended. "You might finally get your chance to go home."

"You don't need to project onto me," Dorothea says. "I know how much you miss your friends."

"Yeah, but I can't say I'm excited at the prospect of having to see my dad again." His fingers run through his hair, a nervous tick she's caught time and time again. "Maybe I could just fake my death instead."

"I'd be glad to help you with that," she says, and makes sure to giggle when people walk past. People see her smiling, her glowing eyes, and do not remember that she is, most and foremost, a performer. A performer with the taste of sick iron on her tongue.

Sylvain smiles. A performer himself. "I'll take you up on it if I have to. Provided it doesn't involve the whole lightning business."

"It's my specialty, Sylvain. You can't expect a professional like me to avoid what I'm good at," she says.

"Of course not," he says. "I just know what to expect from a fellow backstabber."

Though Dorothea keeps smiling, her blood goes cold. Heart stopped, like Byleth would joke to her. 

"I'm just curious," he says. "You? Going against Edelgard? That'd be a real sight to see."

"Why so," she asks - more threat than question.

"Oh, you know how it is. Gossip gets around. I guess it's all school kids talk, but I can't just ignore it, can I?" His fingers tangle in his hair. Dorothea frowns. "You're the only one from the Empire still here. The rest of us are all Kingdom kids or from out here, but then there's you. I thought it was weird. Some pretty little songstress defects from the Empire, right after a war starts. You know. The stuff of operas."

"So I'm a spy," she says.

"You don't have to be a spy," Sylvain says, brisk. "All you have to be is homesick for the rest of us to get killed."

And at that, Dorothea laughs.

She laughs till tears spring and burn from her eyes, streaking down her face.

"I knew I was right when I said you hated women, Sylvain. Yet, I understood and I chose not to spread it around the Monastery." She can't rid her face of the bitter smile cut into her cheeks. "It's nice to see that this is how you repay me. After you went so far to mention Felix to me. So how am I to know, that you won't just kill me, for the sake of being with the man -"

"Stop," he says.

"Stop what, Sylvain? The truth you refuse to admit? The fact that you yelled at our teacher and other women, the fact that you took your anger out on them, because you're an angry brat who would never say how you truly feel? Because you hate women so much for the hatred you have chosen to foster for your own reality?"

"There are some things that can't be said," he says.

"I'm glad you understand that much," Dorothea says. "Goodnight, Sylvain."

It gives her some satisfaction that he does not attempt to follow her. Dorothea does not sleep, that night.

\---

Hilda strikes the last blow against Edelgard.

Those surviving in Edelgard's army carry her away, blood flowing from her like water. It makes Dorothea want to follow. Cry and beg and plead for Edelgard's life back, in some safe kind place, far away from here. But that was not here.

Here, Claude was left alive, biting his lips to the point of blood over Hilda.

"You were supposed to run away. You always refused the front lines. What's wrong with you?"

She brushes her hand over his face, leaving a trail of blood. "Stupid. You think I was going to let you die? You don't get to be lazy."

Edelgard's axe had come down hard on the neck of her wyvern. Hilda had been thrown off, shock coloring her face, straight into the sharpened end of the Queen's axe. And yet - it was luck, leaving only her shoulder punctured. Still a terrible wound - even now, a clear hole through her - but it was enough to stop Edelgard. Enough to surprise her. Enough for Edelgard to stare, too long, at a classmate, and turn pale at her reality.

Hilda had shoved her axe through the great walls of Edelgard's armor and sliced open her gut.

Watching Claude cry, now, Dorothea thinks - 

Maybe he had been planning to die.

Watching Edelgard be carried away by her former compatriots, Dorothea wonders why she isn't the one dying, instead.

In her mind, she can dream of another world, where she's the one who jumps in front of Edelgard at the last moment - where she's the one that Edelgard looks at, shocked and hurt and happy all at once, finally being the one to protect her. She can imagine Edelgard sobbing over her, wiping the blood from her face, and Dorothea would try to summon the strength to touch her lips, and finally they would - 

Dorothea forces the thought out of her mind.

Claude has stood, Hilda's body in his arms. "We've won."

\---

"Are you returning to the Empire?" Sylvain asks - and catches himself. "Or I guess. What used to be the Empire."

"Why would I?" Dorothea feels more tired with each word. "The opera house I worked at was destroyed. That was the closest thing to a home I had."

"Ah," he says. 

"I'm sure you're happy," she says. "You can finally face your beloved again."

"Dorothea -"

"Don't," she says. "I'm not interested. I understand that you don't like me. I wanted to tell you, that's fine. Because I don't like you either."

"I do consider you a friend," he says.

"How pleasant."

In terms of belongings, she doesn't have much left. Medals. What clothes she was able to keep while traveling. A hairpin Byleth had given her. The old insignia of the Black Eagles. Her fingers shake.

"And I wanted to say I'm sorry," he says.

"For what? Being the person you are?" she asks.

Sylvain cracks a grin at that. "I guess you could say it that way. More just. I'm sorry you had to see your friend die that way." He pauses. "I'm sorry for taking out my self-loathing on you."

She shakes her head. "It's not the first time. And it's not as though I don't understand. I am so sick of apologies."

"And if you have nothing to return to, I wanted to make an offer," he says.

"I don't need a job being a servant. Or a general. I'm done with this." She shuts the case of belongings. "All of this."

"They expect me to marry," he says.

"I'm aware. I'm sure you have a great many requests from what nobles have survived the war. Some great champion, returning home, after a successful campaign against the evil Empress." Dorothea laughs. "Good luck to you."

"There are also officers who excelled in the war that I could marry." Sylvain keeps going. "My family's always lived on the border. Protecting it and fighting for the good of the Kingdom." He sits in the chair on the opposite side of her room, backwards. Like an idiot. "A lot of commoners fought for the Kingdom and are getting various awards. All that good stuff. I had someone in mind."

"I don't love you, Sylvain." Dorothea swallows, acid burning her throat. "And I never could."

"Yeah, I know. ...And I know you know what I'm at on all of that." He sighs. "It's all about bloodlines, but more about who has kids. If nothing else, I have to marry someone who I can pretend to have a child with." His eyes are dark, but there's a flippant smile on his face. "There are a lot of orphans now. I might have connections for that, with the church. And you're so good at magic that a fake baby bump wouldn't be too hard, right?"

"You plan to fool them all? Even the one you love?" Much as she hates it, she smiles. "That sounds like something out of an opera I once read."

"Well, y'know, even if it's not, you could probably find the time to write one," he says. "After all, if I'm away from home all the time, a lady of the house has to keep herself busy. Whether it's managing finances. Or performing. Or writing. Or inviting over some lady friends of hers." He shrugs. "It's not like it's any of my business. I'm just a philanderer, after all."

The worst part about Sylvain is that he really can make her laugh. "I'm surprised you knew that word!"

"Hey, people have thrown a lot worse at me. But seriously, Dorothea. You should fake-marry me. If you're interested in ruining nobles and getting rich doing it, it's the least you can do."

"So you plan to live out the rest of your life in a lie? And you expect me to as well?"

"What I think is I would rather die than have someone else choose a wife for me. What I think is this might be the best you'll get at this point."

It's cruel. Sylvain is nothing if not cruelly honest.

"There will always be rumors," she says. "With Felix missing, I don't know how you plan to find your friends again."

"I'd rather this than risk being trapped in a home I despise." With that, Sylvain pauses. "And ... I thought you deserve it more than I do. At this point. You could probably do more with it than I could. If I die, it's left to your name. If you don't want an apology, maybe you could accept that."

Dorothea lingers on her clean nails. No blood. Nothing but pristine lies. Everything she'd ever wanted, at the cost of every good thing she'd known. She nods. "I'll consider it."

**Author's Note:**

> My big take-away from this game is that Sylvain and Dorothea are both big time Gay Homosexual-ville and that any ending where they don't date their gay crushes is just comphet.
> 
> But these two - they kill me, because they are so much the same kind of person. Sylvain has way more privilege than Dorothea, don't doubt that, but they are both pretending to be people they aren't for the sake of survival. But they hate it. Dorothea calls out Sylvain, points out that yes, he does hate women, from their first free time event. The thing he admits to Byleth in their A-Rank! God. God. Sylvain hits on her but knows that she sees through him and she still invites him to eat with her, like, on the level, because she knows he sees through her and that she doesn't really give a shit about any of the men she's trying to engage with, but she appreciate him. The two of them forming a relationship explicitly to protect each other's interests, while still performing what society expects of them, breaks my heart but is legitimately engaging to me.
> 
> Dorothea is also my wife and makes me cry. She make me Big Time Gay............................ my girl who hates herself but loves women so much that she tries to help every girl and love every girl, even if they don't reciprocate.


End file.
